


things i've done: some i'm ashamed of and some i don't remember

by derogatory



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Body Worship, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, M/M, Nipple Play, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 09:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19850287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derogatory/pseuds/derogatory
Summary: "Get on the bed," Torao says, like he's done a million times before. Well, not like, a million times. That would be more criminal than impressive, but. Plenty of times.Probably more than Ryuunosuke has, judging by the way he casts an apprehensive look at the bed.





	things i've done: some i'm ashamed of and some i don't remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [easternbunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/easternbunny/gifts).



As they stagger into his apartment, Torao has an unwanted surge of hope that Ryuunosuke might like it. That he might cast his warm gaze around the strategic layout of furniture and compliment him. Say something about the backsplash in the kitchen. He probably would, right? He's considerate like that. It's what women fall in love with: not just the fantastic body and great hair, but the fact that he's such a kind, accommodating person too.

Torao drops his keys on the counter with a clatter. That stuff makes his blood boil.

"So," Ryuunosuke says, because of course even tipsy, even in this outrageous situation, he's the kind of person who feels the need to say _something_. After all, he's a guest in Torao's home, and it's late, and they've been drinking enough to be bold but not so much he'd forget his manners. So, of course, Tsunashi Ryuunosuke says something to fill the silence because he's even nice to somebody like Torao, some weird twisted guy who's wasted more nights thinking about revenge than kindness.

Torao exhales sharply, hoping to cast the thought aside. It's not productive. It's definitely not what they came back here to do.

Torao pushes him. It's not enough to knock Ryuunosuke over, but it's enough to force him against the foyer wall, stumbling over a couple shoes, a wayward slipper. Ryuunosuke goes without a fuss, the wall coming up fast behind him. A nerve in his jaw twitches nervously. He starts to say something and Torao ducks in closer, catching Ryuunosuke's mouth with his own.

His shoulders tense under Torao's hands as he holds him in place, tongue coaxing at his lips. They're stupidly soft. What kind of guy has lips this soft? Ryuunosuke still tastes like the drinks from the bar, still smells like the smokey corner they had been hiding in. The bar feels like something from ages ago, where Torao had Ryuunosuke close enough he could have stretched his leg out under the table and had his foot in his lap. He wonders what Ryuunosuke might have done then — yell and stand up, push him away. Or sit still and sweet and let Torao kick off his shoe and grind his heel between Ryuunosuke's legs. 

Or maybe he could have followed Ryuunosuke to the bathroom and bent him over the toilets. Pulled Ryuunosuke's hair and fucked him with wild abandon, shoved the other man into the grime and filth of the stall. Ignored Ryuunosuke's whimpers and used him up like a toy, a hole to satisfy him and discard.

Or they could have sat there and enjoyed a civil conversation, a drink or two before making up some excuse to go their separate ways. Live entirely different lives within the idol industry, passing one another during performances, exchanging mild pleasantries. That one would have been the simplest, the least likely to disrupt the easygoing life Torao had built for himself. But definitely the most disappointing. He's learning to want more from his life than just easy. To ask for things for himself. And not to demand but to negotiate, to work with others evenly, to compromise. Simple things he could've learned earlier if Torao had been the son of a penniless fisherman.

"I could teach you," Torao had said back at the bar, while Ryuunosuke stared into his glass. "If you wanted," he had added, infuriatingly accommodating. They hadn't known each other long, but Ryuunosuke already had that effect on him. Somehow Ryuunosuke's presence winds up making everything tepid and nice. Torao had resisted the urge to gnash his teeth in the moment, even though honestly he didn't really dislike that kind of thing. He'd only disliked that about Ryuunosuke because Tsukumo Ryo had used him for his own revenge, and now it's something Torao has to atone for.

It isn't a typical kind of atonement, but Torao never thought of himself as a typical guy.

Ryuunosuke didn't have to agree. He clearly already has both mastered: the image of a sexy beast and a trustworthy guy. He's the kind of guy a girl wants to spend a night with and then maybe go out for breakfast the next morning. If anything, Torao is the one who should be asking for lessons. Ryuunosuke doesn't really need the help and surely he knows better than to trust someone like Torao, but…

But Ryuunosuke had looked up at him, face lit affectionately by the surrounding candlelight, and had nodded.

"All right," he had said, fingers tapping against the table, the only sign of his nerves. 

"Really?" Torao hadn't imagined this would actually work. 

"Well, it seems like you really want to show me," Ryuunosuke had admitted, eyes skirting the room like he was suddenly not sure he could look Torao in the eye anymore. The drinks made his tongue looser, admissions easier, "And I want to spend more time together."

The tension that had been building in Torao's chest had evaporated instantly. There had been all sorts of things he could've done to Ryuunosuke in that bar. But instead they'd brokered a careful arrangement, and Torao's apartment had been close.

(It wasn't really close. Certainly farther away than most hotels, but Torao didn't want to risk being identified. Didn't want to put up any potential roadblocks between himself and this goal he'd never thought he'd really achieve.)

Back in the present, Ryuunosuke's hands, hovering awkwardly above Torao, slowly come to rest along his back. Torao coaxes his mouth open as they kiss, tongue sliding over his own, inching into the wet expanse of Ryuunosuke's mouth. His hand lifts to hold Ryuunosuke at the nape of his neck; whether it's to keep him from hitting his head against the wall or pulling away, Torao isn't sure. They'll need to pace themselves; this isn't just about kissing after all. There are too many things he wants to try and teach Ryuunosuke. He pulls Ryuunosuke by his elbow further into the apartment, pausing momentarily to step out of their shoes.

At the bedroom, he pushes Ryuunosuke ahead of him. He looks natural here — as if he knows how many times Torao has pictured him like this.

"Get on the bed," Torao says, like he's done a million times before. Well, not like, a million times. That would be more criminal than impressive, but. Plenty of times. Probably more than Ryuunosuke has, judging by the way he casts an apprehensive look at the bed. Torao's heartbeat races at a gallop. He can't give Ryuunosuke a chance to reconsider, he can't bear to get this close only to miss out because they're drunk, or it's crazy, or because Ryuunosuke is _such_ a good guy he won't let Torao at least feel him up a little.

"Hey," Torao says, voice dark enough it forces Ryuunosuke's eyes to snap back to him. "I'm the teacher, right? On the bed." He barely holds back a sigh of relief as Ryuunosuke steps back, seating himself at the edge of the bed. 

"Okay," Ryuunosuke says, his voice a submissive slur. He's cute like this. 

His legs are so long, Torao notices, stepping between them and making a space for himself there. He drops to his knees with palms laid flat against Ryuunosuke's thighs, forcing them further apart. "Oh," Ryuunosuke adds like he thought they were just in the bedroom to talk, like the lights are down low because it's better for their eyes. That Torao really offered to do all this because he's nice too.

Torao maintains intense eye contact as he leans in, holding Ryuunosuke's abashed stare like he's trying to assert dominance over a dog. Then again, Ryuunosuke does look like a pet like this, deliciously leaning into every touch, not struggling when Torao hooks his fingers under the hem of Ryuunosuke's shirt and peels it over his head.

Torao swallows hard, hopefully not in an audible way. He can't give any sign he's happy with what he sees. After all, he's seen Ryuunosuke's chest loads of times. Honestly, more than most people since somehow every inane object Trigger promotes always seems to involve Ryuunosuke getting half-naked. He's seen Ryuunosuke's bare chest on TV, at the movies, even once or twice on a billboard across the subway platform. It's nothing new. Honestly, he might have been able to identify a photo of it alone, and that's just because the market is saturated with shirtless Tsunashi Ryuunosuke pictures, and not at all because Torao's thought about this moment many, many times.

But seeing photos of it is entirely different from having it in front of him. Every muscle of Ryuunosuke's chest is obnoxiously hard, each sculpted edge a firm ridge under his fingers. Torao chews at the inside of his cheek, allowing himself the briefest brush of his hand, a harmless stroke from ab to pec. He wants it to be brusque and emotionless, clinical. He offered to help Ryuunosuke, after all, he's being _such_ a good guy. The last thing Torao wants to do is ruin it with feelings, even if those feelings are a mind-numbing desire to lick every inch of that displayed skin. To grab a handful of Ryuunosuke's tits and have his heartbeat thundering in his palm. To consume all future liquids directly from Ryuunosuke's belly button — That's a little out of line. That's not something a nice guy would do. But…

It is definitely something a sexy beast would do.

Torao tears his eyes away from the feast before him, leveling an innocuous stare at Ryuunosuke's face. The soft pink that had tinged his cheeks earlier has erupted into a full blush, creeping all the way as far as Ryuunosuke's ears. Torao's hand slows, careful, testing the water as he drags the pad of his thumb against a hardening nipple. He closes it between his thumb and forefinger; not hard enough to bruise, but enough to be felt, and Ryuunosuke inhales sharply. He can almost feel the air rushing into his lungs.

"You're always so hard here," Torao says, faux wondering, almost coy. Ryuunosuke's leg bounces anxiously beside him. "Everybody can see them through your shirt." He glances up at Ryuunosuke, wants to his see his face for this next part, "It's really lewd, you know?"

"Sorry," Ryuunosuke says and Torao gamely resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, he'd apologize for something like that. Even drunk and at the cusp of a tawdry hookup, Ryuunosuke has something to be sorry about. Torao has a feeling it won't be the only apology he hears tonight. "It's just — ah… It's-"

"Sensitive?" Torao finishes for him, tipping his head forward to breathe hot against his chest. Ryuunosuke shudders at that and manages a weak nod. As a reply, Torao twists the nub in his grip harder, hard enough Ryuunosuke shouts, a surprised sound that melts into an embarrassing gurgle.

"Yeah, they are," Torao continues, bringing his face forward to lick a stripe along Ryuunosuke's collarbone. "But I can't help it. Your tits are so cute and perky." Ryuunosuke's eyebrows are practically at his hairline. His breathing is fast, his blush creeping down his neck. He obviously wasn't expecting this kind of talk. "You wanted to learn," Torao says pointedly, even if that isn't true; Torao was the one who wanted to teach him. Ryuunosuke just agreed. "How to be a sexy beast. This is part of it." He tries to keep his voice simple and explanatory. Instructional.

"All right," Ryuunosuke says after a breathless pause, in a way that implies that maybe it's not completely all right. Like somewhere in the corner of his inebriated mind he can still spot Torao's tricks. But spotting them and stopping them are two different things entirely.

"If it's too much," Torao says before he thinks the better of it. "You can tell me to stop." That seems a little too nice, and Torao reminds himself Ryuunosuke can tell him whatever he likes; if Torao chooses to obey him is another thing entirely. Generosity tastes like sand in his mouth.

But Ryuunosuke's expression fills with such immediate, stirring gratitude that it knocks him momentarily off-balance. Torao drops his eyes to avoid that look, the funny pounding in his chest it elicits. Face close to his chest, he flicks his tongue against one of Ryuunosuke's nipples, laughing when the other man jumps underneath him.

"Relax," he says and takes a nipple between his lips, rolling it against his tongue. He can't help grinning at the way Ryuunosuke cries out, the sweet syrupy sounds dripping from his mouth. He leans forward and Ryuunosuke goes, lying back against the bed. Torao climbs on top of him, head dipped low, mouthing sloppy kisses against Ryuunosuke's chest. Torao lathes his tongue over it and visualizes the dozens of summer promos with Ryuunosuke standing half-naked, nipples proudly displayed at perfect attention. He wants to work them raw until Ryuunosuke's uncomfortable wearing shirts at all. Ryuunosuke going out about his day, tentatively rubbing these deliciously bruised peaks, thinking of him. Torao's saliva cascades down his chest, divining into the rivets of Ryuunosuke's abdominal muscles. At his sides, Ryuunosuke's fists clench and unclench in the blankets.

"You like this so much," Torao says with a smirk, sucking a bruise like a punctuation mark. "You must want everybody to suck on them like this."

Ryuunosuke seems like he's someplace past words, communicating only in short, abortive jerks of his hips. He's obviously enjoying himself, given the insistent press between his legs. Torao casts a pleased look at his work there, the tenting material of Ryuunosuke's slacks, before glancing back to his face — but Ryuunosuke's flung an arm over his eyes, hiding.

Torao frowns and this close surely Ryuunosuke can feel it. "Hey," he says, tone gruff. "You need to watch or you'll never learn anything."

A long pause passes, silent except for Ryuunosuke's hiccuping breaths, and just as Torao's considering pinching his chest until he begs him to stop — Ryuunosuke lifts his arm. His mouth is twisted up like a pout, glistening lips parted, panting hard into the crook of his elbow.

Torao's face cracks into a delighted grin before he can stop himself. That's not a face he'd see on a billboard. He wants more of that, so many more faces like that, and if Ryuunosuke will make them for something as banal as nipple play, Torao can only imagine how far he can take this.

Torao shifts his position, reaching down to roll his palm over Ryuunosuke's crotch.

"Whoa," Ryuunosuke says with a watery gasp, hips arching off the mattress. Torao ignores him, working efficiently, unzipping his pants and dragging them further down Ryuunosuke's thighs. He should be slow about this; there's pacing in romance. Torao's done it enough to know it's better if you don't rush things, but — but that's not what this is. And that face Ryuunosuke's making, the way his whole body shakes under Torao's fingertips… It makes his mouth water, how close he is to having every inch of Ryuunosuke laid out just for him.

"Shit," Torao says with a chuckle, closing his hand around the bulge in Ryuunosuke's underwear. Ryuunosuke whines, his cock throbbing through the thin material. "You're already soaked down here." He can feel the length of him through his underwear, straining against the fabric, ready to spring free. Torao resists the urge to bring that hand back up to his mouth to see if he can taste it, the wetness oozing against his clothing. Another urge — to drop his head down and smell Ryuunosuke through his underwear — is quickly tossed aside. It's better if Torao doesn't look like he's enjoying this so much right away. 

Torao closes his hand slowly, giving Ryuunosuke's dick an appreciative squeeze. Ryuunosuke gasps, hips stuttering, as if he's desperate not to rock into Torao's touch. He wishes Ryuunosuke would, wants him to rut against Torao's hand until he comes through his underwear, trailing down Torao's wrist.

"Why're you so wet, baby?"

Ryuunosuke lifts his head from the bed, his voice in thick in his mouth, "Ah, don't-"

"Don't what?" Torao counters and his hand goes still. "Call you 'baby?'" Torao could argue that's part of his sexy beast training, but he's not sure he's a good enough liar to say it isn't because Ryuunosuke, writhing in his grasp, is the very definition of his baby. That Torao has every intention on doting on him in this terrible way until they both collapse, exhausted and spent. 

"Or maybe you don't want me to touch you there?" Torao adds, lifting his hand. Ryuunosuke's hips involuntarily chase after him. His head tosses back against the blankets, hair fanning out over the dark sheets. Soft, plaintive sounds eke from between his lips. After a momentary hesitation, Torao reaches for his face, his thumb pressing down on Ryuunosuke's lower lip. He wonders if Ryuunosuke can taste himself like that, imagine what it tastes like. He's close enough to taste it himself, as unreal as that sounds.

"No, I-" Ryuunosuke hesitates, staggering over the words, around the fingers prodding their way into his mouth. Torao leans forward on the bed, pushing his fingers against the slickness of Ryuunosuke's tongue. His mouth opens wider, gladly, mumbling vague sounds around the fingers' intrusion. Torao works his hand into his mouth, knuckles curling over his lips as drool seeps down Ryuunosuke's chin. He looks so different like this, panting like a dog in heat. He wants to hold Ryuunosuke in place, touching him everywhere but his cock (he had said 'no' after all, and Ryuunosuke's niceness is catching on.) Poke and prod at all parts of him until Ryuunosuke is sobbing from the force of his arousal, pleading with Torao to jerk him off, to eat him out, to throw him against the bed and fuck his brains out.

"Ask me nicely," Torao says, a command, even though he knows he's five seconds from ripping off Ryuunosuke's underwear with his teeth.

"Ah… please," Ryuunosuke murmurs, licking his lips. Torao wants that tongue back in his mouth. "Please touch me."

"Good boy," Torao says, sliding his fingertips under the waistband of Ryuunosuke's underwear and rolling it down his thighs. His dick springs out, flushed and yearning, precome dribbling down the length of it. Ryuunosuke twists his face away, embarrassed by Torao's wide-eyed stare, but. Fuck, he's wanted to see this for so long. He's not sure when his thoughts of resentment shifted to desire, the moment when the switch flipped from hate to horny. Torao's imagined it too many times now, shamefully palming his cock in the shower. Even when Trigger was kidnapped, Torao found himself thinking about Ryuunosuke tied up and forgotten in some dark hole, unseen hands pawing at him, wringing him out against his will. That memory stings in a small part of him where Torao knows he isn't the bad guy. Where he wants to do the right thing, be a respectable person with a purpose. Worthy of Ryuunosuke's divided attention even when he's not tied up and flung over somebody's shoulder. 

Torao traces his finger from the tip to the base of Ryuunosuke's cock, relishing in the shiver that travels through him, shaking from that center point. Ryuunosuke watches him through his bangs, matted down to his forehead with sweat. He already looks so wrecked, a lavish display over Torao's bed and he's barely even started touching him.

"Feel good?" Torao asks softly.

"Y... Yeah," Ryuunosuke says, cringing when Torao pulls his hand away. He's already that far gone with just a little bit of touching; the last thing he wants is for Ryuunosuke to come early and spoil all his fun.

He lifts one of Ryuunosuke's legs, resting his calf on his shoulder. Torao turns his face to bite his inner thigh; not hard enough to break to the skin, but enough he feels the tensing of a long muscle under his teeth. He has no idea where something like that came from, how Ryuunosuke ended up with a body like that. After all, he never hears Ryuunosuke talk about the gym. Maybe he developed it with all that stupid dancing. Torao imagines those dance moves now; Ryuunosuke's cock swinging back and forth with each perfected move of his hips. Sweat dripping down the back of his thighs. The room is impossibly warm and Ryuunosuke's skin is sweet under his lips. He wants to see more, taste more. Lick every inch of Ryuunosuke's body until he's a broken heap beneath him.

"You look good like this," Torao says, pressing his spit slick fingers below Ryuunosuke's cock, to the hole there, furled and tight, trembling as Torao fingers work their way inside. Ryuunosuke opens for the press of his fingers, slowly, working the tension out of the coiled muscles and enjoying the way he sinks into that puffy flesh, swallowing him up to the knuckles. Ryuunosuke hisses in discomfort and Torao shushes him. There's lube nearby — again, it wasn't hundreds of times, but Torao's done this stuff enough to always keep it close — and it eases some of Ryuunosuke's discomfort. These are sexy beast lessons, after all, Torao's not some kind of brutal deviant.

Then again… Torao lets that idea hang in the air for a moment; pinning Ryuunosuke down and clawing him open, drinking up his tears and painful cries. He blinks it away. He doesn't want that, never did. He's not a bad person, not really, and even if he wasn't, doesn't Ryuunosuke trusting him make him a better person just by proxy? Maybe. Trust is a funny thing to think about when he's scissoring his fingers inside Ryuunosuke, revelling in the stuttered moans that ekes from the body under his.

His lubed fingers slip in and out of Ryuunosuke, moving with such slow control that Ryuunosuke helplessly rocks back against them. Weakly trying to urge Torao to go deeper, move faster, press harder. Still, Ryuunosuke's mouth is closed, lips a tight line like he's afraid of what he might say.

Torao breathes through his nose in a short, annoyed huff. He withdraws his fingers slowly, enjoying the way the insides of Ryuunosuke's body cling to him, desperate to hold him in place. He was pretty greedy too. Like Torao's fingers weren't even enough.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" he murmurs, practically speaking into the point where Ryuunosuke's thigh meets his pelvis. "Slam my cock into you?" Torao asks, aforementioned cock aching against his jeans. Ryuunosuke groans as a reply. "Say it." Torao's sure Ryuunosuke has said all kinds of embarrassing things in those silly dramas he does, but still, he struggles with this one. His mouth opens and closes soundlessly, long enough Torao gets inpatient, thrusting two fingers in as deep as they'll go.

"Ah..!" Ryuunosuke's eyes flutter shut, shoulders bunched at his ears. "O… Okay, okay. Fu — mmm." Ryuunosuke chokes on his words, expression torn. Finally he takes a deep breath, stuttering out, "Fuck me." Victory blooms in the center of Torao's chest. Maybe it's just because Ryuunosuke has been drinking that he'll say these embarrassing things, but. A win is a win. 

Still, Torao keeps wanting more; a pampered life has left him hard to satisfy.

"Say please," he urges, curling his fingers inside until Ryuunosuke is lifting off the bed, squirming and babbling obscenely,

"P-Please, oh, please, please, Torao-kun!"

The words hit him like lightning. "Say it again," Torao orders, words spilling free before he can stop himself.

Ryuunosuke grimaces. "Mm… Please?" he says and tries again when Torao's disappointment is obvious. "Uh. F.. Fuck me-"

"No, not that," Torao corrects him sternly.

Ryuunosuke's brow furrows. "Ah… Your cock?" he tries again and that's still wrong. He'd obviously keep going until Torao praised him, but it's too hard to admit it, and really, he's not sure he can listen to Ryuunosuke say his name like that more than once. And really, Ryuunosuke is getting too close from just fingering alone and there are more things he wants to try — or rather, teach him.

He delicately extracts his fingers and Ryuunosuke's hole gapes wetly at air. Ryuunosuke reaches for him quickly.

"Wait," Ryuunosuke says, earnest and sweet, hand tight around Torao's wrist. He looks at Ryuunosuke's grip there like its a foreign thing. "Don't stop."

"You're getting too worked up," Torao says, shaking himself free. He lowers Ryuunosuke's leg back onto the bed, smirking at the way his hips wriggle impatiently, his cock bobs insistently between his legs. "You'll come from just this." 

"Sorry," Ryuunosuke says. What'd Torao say before? There were always going to be more apologies. Normally he would hate that sort of submissive shit, but there's something appealing when it comes from Ryuunosuke, naked and begging.

"Stop apologizing." Torao crowds Ryuunosuke to the bed, hips lifted, legs in the air. Ryuunosuke looks surprised to be manhandled so easily — yeah, he's a big guy, but Torao's not some little co-star he can toss around. That's what a sexy beast does, what he's promised Ryuunosuke he can teach him. And to his credit, Ryuunosuke isn't struggling away from that kind of roughness; he's keening into it, slinging his arms around Torao's neck and pulling him close. Torao fumbles with the front of his pants, works them down just enough to get his cock free. This is stupid; his shirt is still on. They could make a mess like this. But Ryuunosuke would be worth the dry cleaning bill, worth it to see Ryuunosuke's bronzed skin standing in crisp contrast to Torao's clothing as he lines his dick up between Ryuunosuke's legs.

He turns his face to murmurs into the shell of Ryuunosuke's ear. "You're going to look so good on my cock." and pushes inside in time with Ryuunosuke's gasp.

He was sure when it happened - if it happened, even in the heat of it Torao still can't allow himself to believe he ever really thought this would work. He was sure if he had Ryuunosuke split with his dick, he'd make the man say all kinds of humiliating things. He'd flirted with it already, and Ryuunosuke was definitely so hard up for release he'd likely be willing to recite all kinds of filth. But in the thick of it, Ryunosuke sounds so much better making those wrecked, broken noises as Torao swings back, dragging his cock against the muscles around him before plunging back inside. Ryuunosuke jumps with the force of each thrust, easily pushed and pulled each way with Torao's pleasure. He can move him around like a plaything, work his body raw with his cock and fill Ryuunosuke up with his come. He could do all sorts of things, sure, he'd thought all about them, but there's no more thinking, planning, plotting. Ryuunosuke is here, rocked with thick, throaty sobs as he twists his fingers in Torao's hair and pulls. No apologies then. He's too far gone.

Torao hears himself laughing in a deranged way, pressing his weight down harder, fucking Ryuunosuke deep into the mattress. Leave an imprint of them there. Pin Ryuunosuke to the spot and use him up nightly.

"You feel good, baby," His cock throbs with the way Ryuunosuke growls at that. "I'm gonna fuck your brains out," Torao hisses, and this isn't his best pillow talk, but judging from Ryuunosuke's full-body shudders, it's likely not something he's been told before. "Ah — I'm gonna... screw you until you can't think straight." Ryuunosuke manages a short, strangled cry as Torao leans forward, folding Ryuunosuke's knees to his chest. His expression is already so blissed out and stupid, he's already halfway there. 

"I want-" Torao cuts himself off, swallowing the words. He can't say that. He has to say something about teaching, has to couch the reason that they're here to be something he's doing as a favor. He can't let Ryuunosuke get the upper hand again. Agreeing to these lessons because he thought Torao wanted to do them. After all, Ryuunosuke gets whatever he wants. People love him even if he's some poor nobody from a nothing island with a nothing past. He gets whatever he wants and can act like he just fell into it, that he never has to ask for it, like its all for someone else's benefit and Torao hates it. Can't stand him —

The warmth of Ryuunosuke's palm startles him, cupping the side of Torao's face.

Ryuunosuke smiles and Torao thinks of a sunset. The kind you see at the end of a blissful vacation, from the highest tower of his family's hotels. "Torao-kun."

Still stinging, Torao squeezes his eyes shut. It only takes a couple more erratic thrusts before he comes. Then, in a blinding moment of coital clarity, thinks _we didn't wear a condom_ and pulls out. His come coats Ryuunosuke's thighs, and what little he managed to spill inside oozes from his swollen hole. Torao observes the mess breathlessly, the pooling come dripping down against his sheets. It would've been more of a mess to clean it out of Ryuu. See, he can be a nice guy too.

Ryuunosuke is past words; sticky chest heaving, dick rock hard and leaking against his stomach.

Torao pulls away and drops to the floor. He yanks Ryuunosuke to the edge of his bed, palms wrapped around those thick thighs of his, the muscles jumping in his grip. He wants to trace his tongue there again, but there are other places, more insistent, more deserving of his mouth. Torao dips his head down, taking all of Ryuunosuke into his mouth. Doing this — there's nothing he can really teach Ryuunosuke from it. But he had said he wanted to taste him.

Ryuunosuke practically yelps at the motion, sitting up halfway before flopping back down on the bed. Torao smiles around his cock, bobbing his head as he works into a rhythm. He can barely hear Ryuunosuke's whimpers over the wet sounds of his own mouth, swallowing Ryuunosuke down farther and farther until his cock taps the back of Torao's throat. He moans around it, indulgently, because before the smell of Ryuunosuke's arousal, the taste of the sweat on his skin had been enough. But now when he lifts his head to breathe, all of Ryuunosuke smears over his lips, pooling in his mouth with saliva. He hollows his cheeks as he dips down again and Ryuunosuke's voice is a weak, distant, pleading thing.

Ryuunosuke's hand clamps around his shoulder and Torao thinks really it ought to be in his hair if he wanted to be a sexy beast. But he was already too wound up, too close to the edge, and anywhere Ryuunosuke grabs him is short-lived as he groans in a low, guttural way, and empties into Torao's mouth. Torao had imagined that would've been something Ryuunosuke would've warned him about, being a good guy and all, but he's definitely not complaining.

Torao pulls back, catches the rest of it on his chin, in his palm as he finishes Ryuunosuke with his hands. The idea of swallowing, of carrying Ryuunosuke's seed inside of him, seems weirdly personal. 

Ryuunosuke slumps back against the bed with a thud. Torao leans his head to the side and spits.

Torao is still in the thick of it, the ruptured fantasy that's broken free and come all over his face when Ryuunosuke sits straight up. "Sorry," he says and Torao is dizzy with what the hell he could possibly be sorry about _now_. "Here, let me clean it up." Ryuunosuke leaps to his feet, legs wobbling as he hurries from the bedroom. 

Torao sits stock still. He's very aware of his own breathing. This would be the fastest anybody has ever jumped out of bed with him, and course it would have to be Tsunashi Ryuunosuke. He can't bring himself to feel bad about it; he had sort of deceived Ryuunosuke into this after all.

Numbly, Torao lifts one hand to his lips, hoping he might still feel him there —

"Okay," Ryuunosuke bursts back into the room and Torao drops his hands to his sides, pretending it's perfectly normal to kneel at the foot of your own bed post-sex. Ryuunosuke thunders down to the floor beside him, damp washcloth in hand. He dabs at the mess over Torao's face before Torao swats him away ("Leave it, I don't mind-") before turning his attention to the puddle on the carpet. Torao's gaze travels from the stain Ryuunosuke's currently dabbing the cloth at, to the way his calve muscles look as he crouches on the floor. He could bite Ryuunosuke there too. Or cut him; he'd never dance again. Idol career over. The violence flickers through him and goes out immediately. That's a weird, shitty thought Ryo put in his head. He doesn't want that, never did. He wants to move closer, wrapping his arms around Ryuunosuke's back and hold him tight to his chest. That want burns hotter than vengeance. 

Instead, Torao eases himself back up onto the bed, watching Ryuunosuke carefully, like if he looks away for a second the other man will disappear. Feeling the gaze on him, Ryuunosuke peers up through his overly long eyelashes, his sweat-slick hair. He looks completely wrecked, but he's still crouched on the floor, inexplicably trying to clean Torao's come from the carpet.

A laugh slips from Torao without knowing it had been there. "Hey," he smiles, stupid and wide and horrifically honest. "What's with that shy maiden face, huh?" Ryuunosuke laughs then too, one hand still clutching the washcloth. He smiles in a soft, apologetic way and Torao's veins have a hit of adrenaline. 

"Come back to bed," Torao says, reaching out for him. "Cleaning isn't really a sexy beast's style." His hand hangs there for a minute, maybe longer, hours even. But Ryuunosuke's smile (stupid, dumb, kind, beautiful) never falters, and he takes his hand. 

"Guess not," Ryuunosuke says, easing himself back onto the ruffled sheets.

Torao hums thoughtfully, rolling over to pin Ryuunosuke's pliant body beneath him. "Guess I still have a lot more to teach you."

**Author's Note:**

> omg this was so much fun to write. thank you so much for the request! do i love torao now?? 
> 
> follow me on mobchuu @ twitter!


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